Helpless
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: From the chapter Small Rebellions, pages 455-461 of Inheritance. This is Murtagh's point of view in an argument with Nasuada that changes his resolve. One-Shot


**A/N: Dialogue from the second section on are taken directly from the book. **

Murtagh hated the feeling that was blossoming in his chest. He hated how warm and tingly he felt every time his gaze fell upon Nasuada's once-satin smooth brown skin, how foolishly nervous he felt around her. He hated the love he felt for her, for Murtagh was helpless to save her.

He was a slave to Galbatorix.

Murtagh shivered at the memory of Galbatorix forcing him to swear fealty to him, the magic that had entwined them both, two Riders. He remembered the desperate need to protect Thorn, and the love he felt for his poor red dragon.

He remembered killing the dwarven king under Galbatorix's control. He remembered the shock on Eragon, his brother's face, when he revealed his secret. He remembered trying to kill him.

And he remembered barely stopping himself from killing himself for Thorn's sake.

Murtagh barely noticed the warm tears that were streaking down his tanned skin, for his turmoil inside was overwhelming.

Beside him, Thorn was keening slightly as the red dragon tried to take some of Murtagh's pain.

_ How pitiful I am, _Murtagh thought, hiccuping slightly. _So weak…_

"_Youngling." _Thorn said in Murtagh's mind. Murtagh rose his dark, tear-stained eyes to Thorn.

Thorn rested his head on Murtagh's shoulder and wrapped one of his wings around Murtagh. "_You are only doing what you need to in order to save us both."_

Murtagh felt that black wave of helplessness and self-hatred rise up inside himself. "I'm killing!" he wailed. "I'm so helpless and weak. I can't save Nasuada, can't break free of Galbatorix, am unable to do anything but fail."

Thorn growled. "_Stop that!" _ Thorn said. "_You are a survivor. You escaped Morzan, escaped Galbatorix once, managed to save both of us, and let Eragon live. You are able to love- you love Nasuada, Eragon, and me. You are my Rider, and you are not helpless."_

Startled, Murtagh looked up at Thorn. "_What do I do?"_

Thorn twitched his wings in satisfaction. "_Go to her after tonight's battle. Heal her. Do not lose faith, young one. I am with you."_

"_Thank you." _Murtagh murmured in his mind, falling into sleep.

Thorn made a rumbling noise in his throat, and the pair fell to Morpheus.

Murtagh coughed out a bit of ash as he made his way to Nasuada's cell. He was aching, but most of his cuts and injuries had been healed, and he knew his only chance to visit Nasuada was while Galbatorix was busy 'entertaining' his concubines or sleeping.

Murtagh quickly entered the prison and immediately healed Nasuada, feeling the drop in his power immediately. He groaned inwardly, thinking about how much magic he had used earlier.

"Thank you." Nasuada gasped. Murtagh nodded, before walking over to the wall and sitting in the same spot as before. Murtagh felt Nasuada's gaze as she studied him. His heart fluttered, but he ruthlessly pushed it away.

"Does Galbatorix know where you are?" Nasuada finally asked.

Murtagh's mouth quirked upwards. "He might, but I doubt it. He's busy playing with his favorite concubines. That, or he's asleep. It's the middle of the night right now. Besides, I cast a spell to keep anyone from listening to us. He could break it if he wants, but I would know."

"What if he finds out?"

Murtagh shrugged. He wasn't sure what Galbatorix would do exactly, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

"He will find out, you know, if he wears down my defenses."

Murtagh's eyes flashed. "Then don't let him. You're stronger than me; you have no one he can threaten. You can resist him, unlike me…" Murtagh's frustration and anger slowly began seeping into his words. "The Varden are fast approaching, as are the elves from the north. If you can hold out for another few days, there's a chance…" Murtagh swallowed. "There's a chance maybe they can free you."

"You don't believe they can, do you?"

Murtagh only shrugged again.

Nasuada hesitated, before saying, "Then help me escape."

Murtagh felt a bubble of hysteria rise up inside him. He couldn't escape himself- how could Nasuada expect him to help her? He realized with a start that he had let out a harsh bark of laughter. "How?" he demanded, his own helplessness flowing over him. "I can't do much more than put on my boots without Galbatorix's permission."

Nasuada's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You could loosen my cuffs, and when you leave, perhaps you could forget to secure the door."

Murtagh felt his upper lip curl up in a sneer. "There are two men stationed outside, there are wards set upon this room to warn Galbatorix if a prisoner steps outside it, and there are hundreds of guards between here and the nearest gate. You'd be lucky to make it to the end of the hallway, if that."

"Perhaps…" said Nasuada, "...but I'd like to try."

"You'd only get yourself killed."

"Then help me." Nasuada said, her eyes wide. "If you wanted, you could find a way to fool his wards."

Murtagh shook his head, angry at his own uselessness. "I can't. My oaths won't let me use magic against him."

"What of the guards, though?" questioned Nasuada. "If you held them off long enough for me to reach the gate, I could hide myself in the city, and it wouldn't matter if Galbatorix knew-"

"The city is his." Murtagh interrupted. "Besides, wherever you went, he could find you with a spell. The only way you would be safe from him would be to get far away from here before the alarm roused him, and that you could not do even on dragonback."

"There must be a way!" Nasuada shouted, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"If there were…." Murtagh smiled bitterly, thinking of how he might have been able to escape with Thorn with their freedom. He looked down, looking for the first time, his mere 19 years. "It's pointless to consider."

Obviously frustrated, Nasuada looked up, pulling her wrists slightly at the cuffs. "At least let me out of these cuffs."

Murtagh let his breath out in a rush of exasperation. Didn't she get it? Murtagh wasn't a hero. No matter how much he wished to be.

"Just so I can stand up." Nasuada added. "I hate lying on this stone, and it's making my eyes ache having to look at you down there."  
Murtagh hesitated, the beat of his heart and protests of his mind clashing for a moment. He rose to his feet in a single graceful move and crossed to Nasuada's slab. He began to unfasten the padded restraints around her wrists and ankles with his quick, nimble fingers. "Don't think you can kill me." Murtagh added softly, in a low voice. "You can't."

Once Nasuada was free, Murtagh retreated to his former position, lowering himself onto the floor, where he stared off into the distance, thinking of what his brother Eragon would think of this. Probably something about him choosing to change, and that he can be good or break Galbatorix's oath or something. He snorted in his mind at the thought of his naive little brother.

He looked up to see Nasuada's tattered shift, and quickly turned his face away, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

The cool chill of the marble floor felt good against Murtagh's blushed skin. He closed his eyes, leaning his shaggy head against the wall.

The sound of Nasuada's soft feet pattering towards him made his heart speed up. He opened his eyes as she sat beside him, but kept his face turned away. He heard her cross her arms in an attempt to protect her modesty.

"Was Tornac really your only friend growing up?" she asked softly.

Murtagh's gaze hardened in old pain and anger. "No, but he was as close to a father as I've ever had. He taught me, comforted me...berated me when I was too arrogant, and saved me from making a fool of myself more times than I can remember. If he were still alive, he would have beaten me silly for getting as drunk as I did the other day."

"You said he died during your escape from Uru'baen?"

Murtagh snorted in self-disgust. "I thought I was being clever. I bribed one of the watchmen to leave a side gate open for us. We were going to slip out of the city under the cover of darkness, and Galbatorix was only supposed to find out what had happened once it was too late to catch us. He knew from the very start, though. How, I'm not sure, but I guess he was scrying me the whole while. When Tornac and I went through the gate, we found soldiers waiting for us on the other side...Their orders were to bring us back unharmed, but we fought, and one of them killed Tornac. The finest swordsman in all the Empire brought down by a knife in the back."

"But Galbatorix let you escape." said Nasuada softly.

"I don't think he expected us to fight." Murtagh admitted. "Besides, he attention was directed elsewhere that night."

A strange half-smile flitted across Murtagh's weathered face. "I counted the days," he said. "That was when the Ra'zac were in Palancar Valley, searching for Saphira's egg. So you see, Eragon lost his foster father almost at the same time I lost mine. Fate has a cruel sense of humor, don't you think?"

"Yes it does…" Nasuada agreed. "But Galbatorix...he could scry you, so why didn't he track you down and bring you back to Uru'baen later on?"

"He was playing with me, I think. I went to stay at the estate of a man I believed I could trust. As usual, I was mistaken, though I only found that out later, once the Twins brought me back here. Galbatorix knew where I was, and he knew I was still angry over Tornac's death, so he was content to leave me at the estate while he hunted for Eragon and Brom...I surprised him though; I left, and by the time he learned of my disappearance, I was already on my way to Dras-Leona. That's why Galbatorix went to Dras-Leona, you know. It wasn't to chastise Lord Tabor over his behavior- although he certainly did- it was to find me. But he was too late. By the time he arrived at the city, I had already met up with Eragon and Saphira, and we had set off for Gil'ead."

"Why did you leave?" Nasuada asked.

"Didn't Eragon tell you? Because-"

"No, not Dras-Leona. Why did you leave the estate? You were safe there, or so you thought. So why did you leave?"

Murtagh fell silent for a while, his thoughts and memories rushing through his mind in a rapid cascade of reflection. Finally, he haltingly said, "I wanted to strike back at Galbatorix, and I wanted to make a name for myself apart from my father's. My whole life, people have looked at me differently because I am the son of Morzan. I wanted them to respect me for my deeds, not his." Murtagh risked a quick glance at Nasuada. "I suppose I got what I wanted, but again, fate has a cruel sense of humor."

_And a morbid interest in my family, _Murtagh added silently in his head.

Nasuada obviously wanted to ask him something personal, but decided against it. Instead, she asked, "How much does Galbatorix really know about the Varden?"

"Everything, so far as I can tell. He has more spies than you think."

Murtagh felt Nasuada stiffen beside him, and he sighed.

"Do you know of any way to kill him?" Nasuada asked.

"A knife. A sword. An arrow. Poison. Magic. The usual ways. The problem is, he has too many spells wound about himself for anyone or anything to have a chance at harming him. Eragon is luckier than most; Galbatorix doesn't want to kill him, so he may get to attack the king more than once. But even if Eragon could attack him a hundred times, he wouldn't find a way past Galbatorix's wards."

"Every puzzle has a solution and every man has a weakness," insisted Nasuada. Her voice, although weary, had a strong sense of certainty in it. "Does he love any of his concubines?"

Murtagh made a face, which made Nasuada move on. When time had later passed, Murtagh would look back at this statement and reflect on it. "Would it be so bad if Galbatorix remains king? The world he envisions is a good world. If he defeats the Varden, Alagaesia will finally be at peace. He'll put an end to the misuse of magic; elves, dwarves, and humans will no longer have cause to hate each other. What's more, if the Varden lose, Eragon and I can be together as brothers ought to be. But if they win, it'll mean the death of Thorn and me. It'll have to."

"Oh? And what of me?" countered Nasuada. "If Galbatorix wins, shall I become his slave, to order about as he wills?"

Murtagh winced, but refused to answer. His knuckles tightened as he thought about Nasuada's courage and determination.

"You can't give up, Murtagh."

"What other choice do I have!" Murtagh yelled, his voice cracking, but filling the room with echoes. Inside, his emotions were in disarray and only years of hiding emotions kept him from crying, punching a wall, or else.

Nasuada stood and stared down at Murtagh. "You can fight! Look at me...Look at me!"  
Murtagh didn't want to lift his eyes; he was shameful. However, Nasuada wasn't the youngest leader of the Varden for nothing, and Murtagh reluctantly raised his eyes.

"You can find ways to work against him. That's what you can do! Even if your oaths will allow only the smallest of rebellions, the smallest of rebellions might still prove to be his undoing." She drew her shoulders back. "What other choice do you have? You can go around feeling helpless and miserable for the rest of you life. You can let Galbatorix turn you into a monster. Or you can fight."

Nasuada spread her arms so Murtagh could see the burn marks. "Do you enjoy hurting me?"

"No!" he exclaimed.

"Then fight, blast you! You have to fight, or you will lose everything you are! As will Thorn."

Fury rose up in Murtagh's chest, and he shot to his feet, lithe as a cat. He stalked towards her until he was only a few inches away. The muscles in his jaw jumped while he glowered at her.

Nasuada paused, recognizing danger, but forged on ahead. "If I can keep fighting, so can you."

"Back to the stone." Murtagh said in a cold voice.

"I know you are not a coward, Murtagh." said Nasuada, obeying Murtagh. "Better to die than to be a slave to one such as Galbatorix. At least then you might accomplish some good, and your name might be remembered with a measure of kindness after you are gone."

"Back to the stone," he growled, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her over to the slab.

He quickly rebound Nasuada, fury rolling off his shoulders. When he finished, his dark eyes were wild, and the lines of his body were taught like a pulled cord.

"You have to decide whether you are willing to risk your life in order to save yourself. You and Thorn both." said Nasuada. "And you have to decide now, while there is still time. Ask yourself: what would Tornac have wanted you to do?"

Murtagh's chest ached, but the sight of Nasuada's pleading eyes calmed him. He extended his right arm and placed his hand on her upper chest. He whispered a spell in the ancient language.

Murtagh lifted his hand away and stepped back. He began to walk to the entrance of the chamber. Sensing Nasuada's curiosity and fear, he paused. "That should shield you from the pain of most any wound, but you'll have to pretend otherwise, or Galbatorix will discover what I've done."

Murtagh left, just barely hearing the thank you Nasuada whispered. His back straightened unconsciously as a tiny flame reignited in his chest. He would fight. He would no longer be helpless.

He was Murtagh, Dragon Rider, and would fight to save the ones who had saved him.

_ Thank you, _he whispered into the silent hallway.


End file.
